Memory to Keep
by lemacd
Summary: Another fluffy one shot... from a Christmas story prompt. Georg hopes he can figure out how to put some of Maria's treasures in a memory box... yeah, lame summary. Please read and PLEASE REVIEW. thanks!


**Memories to Keep**

It was their first Christmas and he wanted to give her something special.

Georg leisurely strolled by the shops on Getreidegasse, pleased but not surprised at his renewed infatuation with the holiday season. It had been quite a few years since he could honestly say he looked forward to Christmas and all the activity it included. The last time he could recall the holiday with any clear memory was quite painful; he struggled to maintain a festive spirit for the seven young children who were blissfully unaware, the youngest among them incapable of even comprehending, that it would be the last one with their mother. The following years were spent going through the motions with an aching tendency to avoid the merriest parts.

This year was different. All that pain found the proper home, making room once again for what did matter most to him, his family. He couldn't even pretend it had to do with anything other than Maria. She was the miracle that gave everything he held dear back to him… his children, the music that flowed effortlessly throughout his home, and many other things… and now Christmas.

He had tried his best during their young marriage to spoil her, but other than accepting the things she needed to fit into her new life, she voiced disapproval at the unnecessary extravagances. The closest he came to giving her something that trumped her rule of practicality was when he remodeled the music room and gave her carte blanche to do as she pleased with it. It didn't really count, though, as she insisted it was for the children and their musical instruction.

Even at Christmas, when the prospect of getting a present from him wasn't even available for debate, Maria refused to make it easy and even hint at what her heart desired. Instead she would cleverly steer the conversation to discussing what to give the children, which he indulged as it brought out a joy in her that he adored. It practically fed his soul to see her happy. To find a gift for her that would produce that reaction would be a gift for himself, really.

He ducked into a small antique shop to browse. He had a few titles he thought she might enjoy and hoped to find first editions. The place had the charm of a bygone era, and he felt like he was surrounded by genuine history, not some manufactured sentimentality. He took his time; he knew that if there was something that could express his deepest affection to Maria, it would have to be found and chosen out of great consideration. It would have to be imprinted with the dreams and desires of a life lived fully. Moreover, he had a strange feeling if he could find such an item, it would be in this very shop.

"Good morning, sir," the proprietor greeted him from behind a box of glass jars he was unpacking and arranging on a table. "Is there anything I can help you find today?"

"Thank you, but I'm not even sure I know what I'm looking for."

"A gift?"

"Yes," Georg mumbled as he lifted an odd trinket and set it back down. "For my wife."

"Ah. The hardest kind to find."

"Hmmm yes." George glanced around the shop in an attempt to decide where to start browsing. "Do you have any books?"

"Certainly. In the back. Just keep walking straight and you'll find them. A few first editions, works of Shakespeare, poetry." The man continued his task as Georg walked away. There was the usual antique furniture, artwork, and ceramics of assorted size and purpose, none of which interested him in the slightest. He was starting to think his search would end in disappointment by the time he reached the shelf of books, but as he started to peruse the titles, a table beyond where he stood caught his eye.

There were many small boxes arranged on the table. He lifted one and opened the lid. A light little tune started to play, causing him to smile. He set it down and looked over the others. There was a lacquer one with a simple cherry blossom painted on the lid. A few others were roughly hewn, but still quite expertly crafted.

"Those are lovely, aren't they?" A voice said from behind him. Georg looked up to find the shop owner had joined him. "Pity you didn't come in a few days ago. I've sold quite a few recently. The little ones are quite popular."

"You have ones that are bigger?"

"I do, right over here." He led Georg to a selection of boxes a few steps away. "Mind you, not all of them play music. I suppose you could use them as jewelry boxes, keep stationary… letters. Anything, really."

An idea suddenly came to Georg as he listened to the man sell the boxes. He looked at each one, inspecting them all carefully. He didn't want a very plain one, but some were too ornate, too gaudy for display. He was about to give up when he came upon the last one. It was a good size box made of cedar. It was heavily decorated with inlayed ivory and onyx, little squares and triangles all around every edge, top and sides. Small brass handles hung on either side. The thing that really drew him to this particular box, however, was the "M" on the lid, also created by black and white inset.

"This box," he asked. "Where is it from?"

"I believe the man who sold it to me said it was from India. There seems to be some writing scratched on the bottom but I can't read it. It is a lovely box, quite unusual. Many people admire it, but no one wants it. I suspect the monogram has a lot to do with that."

"I'll take it," Georg decided immediately. The man nodded, surprised and pleased to have made the sale. He took the box out of Georg's hands and demonstrated the lock, checked the hinges and then offered to polish it before wrapping it for him. Georg thanked him and watched him go to work on it.

"Could you wrap it?"

"All I have is some brown paper and string," the man replied apologetically.

"That is perfect!" If he needed any more proof that he found the perfect gift for Maria, those words were it.

He carried his purchase out the door and down the street with it tucked tightly under one arm, he congratulated himself on accomplishing the impossible. But as he got closer to his car, a few doubts started to creep into his thoughts.

When he explained the tradition of giving the girls a memory boxes for Christmas after they were born, Maria had been fascinated. He explained how Gretl didn't have one since it was the kind of thing he found too difficult when his first wife passed away. The more he talked about it, though, the more wistful she became. It occurred to him then that perhaps she would like a memory box of her own. Now, though, he wondered if was the box or the idea of having memories kept in it.

Getting a full picture of Maria's upbringing hadn't been a challenge exactly, but she had been careful to stress the good over the bad. She had nothing material from her childhood, that was for certain. He assumed it was because she disposed of those kinds of things when she went into the convent. Maria sadly laughed and said that whatever she had to relinquish to enter the Abbey was worth getting rid of. He wondered what that kind of comment could mean, but she didn't elaborate and he could tell it was a deliberate thing on her part.

Giving Maria a memory box was clever and he knew she would love it. But filling it with memories… that would make the entire gift truly inspired.

Later that evening, Georg pulled his eldest daughter aside and asked if she would be willing to help him solve this problem. He asked her what kinds of things she kept in her box. He only wanted a simple inventory, but Liesl flew to her room to retrieve it and before he knew it, they were huddled in his study pouring over every item. They lost track of the time as they revisited times once too painful to recall when Maria found them.

"Am I interrupting something important?" she asked, watching as Liesl quickly threw items into the box and closed the lid.

"Oh, nothing very important," she explained nervously. "Father and I were just looking at some old memories. We're finished now." She stood up and left quickly, leaving her father to finish any damage control. Maria narrowed her eyes at him and opened her mouth to speak, but didn't.

"Was there something you wanted?" Georg asked.

"Just… missed you. I thought you'd join the rest of us before bedtime. I'm sure the other children would have enjoyed hearing their father reminisce." There was a strain in her voice as she said it.

"You're upset," he stated, but not defensively.

"Oooh, not really," she muttered. She dropped down next to him, annoyed with her childish behavior. "It's silly really. Memories are important and I'm glad Liesl has a box of them."

"She isn't afraid to share them with me anymore," Georg added. "And that is all because of you. Please don't regret that." Maria smiled.

"I won't. I guess I was just a little jealous because I don't have them, the kind of memories you can keep in a box, that you can look at with your eyes, touch with your hands. But I shouldn't be so silly. The things I do treasure are in my heart and could never fit in a box."

"Such as?"

"Oh, well…" she started to think. "There's you, of course. And the children. And the sisters at the Abbey. The city of Paris. Hard to put memories of Paris in a box, wouldn't you say?"

"I agree," he laughed.

"Thank you, darling," she said, giving him a quick kiss before getting up to leave. "You've made me feel better. I promised a bedtime story or two, so if you'll excuse me… " Maria stopped at the door and turned to look at him, her eyes gleaming.

"No, I don't think putting you in a box would do me a bit of good," she said.

When Christmas morning finally arrive, Georg watched the scene before him with awe. His children, no longer restrained by rules to keep them quiet, filled the room with delighted sounds of cheer and happiness. There was no doubt in his mind that each one was pleased with the gifts chosen for them; the boys huddled over a pair of model airplanes while the older girls admired the pink dress Maria made for Marta's new doll. Liesl tearfully thanked Maria for her very own guitar who insisted it was from him, too, but he could tell his daughter knew it was her idea.

He was especially pleased at Gretl's grown up reaction to her special memory box. She was already talking about all the things she planned to keep in it, balking at any mention of the limited room in it for most of them.

And while the hat the children picked out for him was quite dashing, he couldn't help but think he was staring at his real gift: the second chance he was given to know his children, to hear their laughter and receive their unconditional love. That, coupled with the devotion of the woman sitting nestled by his side soaking it all in with serene contentment, was more than any man could ask in life. He shifted his arm to reach around her shoulder and pull her tighter to his side. He rested his lips against her temple and let out a satisfied sigh as she rested her head on his shoulder.

"Father?"

"Yes, Brigitta?"

"Is it time?" His daughter stood up eagerly. Her question seemed to signal the others to stop what they were doing. They all turned their attention to Maria, waiting for something to happen.

"Time for what?" she asked, confused.

"I have something… well, we have something for you," Georg informed her, a touch of mysterious excitement in his voice. "Are you ready for your present?" Maria sat up straight and bit her lip as she looked around at the faces of her family.

"I'm not really sure," she laughed, her fingers nervously running through her hair. "But I don't think there is much I can do about it either way." She became serious as she watch Georg nod at Friedrich who disappeared around the far side of the Christmas tree. He emerged with a large package in both hands and carried it to his mother, laying it gently on her lap.

"What is it?" she asked, unsure of what else to say.

"You'll never know until you open it," he teased. Now it was his turn to be nervous. He didn't realize until that moment how much he wanted her to like it. She slowly pulled on the string until it was loose enough to slip across the slick paper. One by one the children drew closer. Their father had told them what it was, but they had yet to see what it looked like. As she peeled the wrapping back, a chorus of "ooh" drifted around the room.

"How lovely!" Maria exclaimed as she admired the intricate designs and ran her hand over the polished 'M' on the lid. She picked it up by the small brass handles on the side while Georg slid the paper out of the way. "I've never seen anything like it!"

"Father thought you should have a memory box like the rest of us," Liesl bubbled excitedly. "Do you like it?"

"Of course, it's beautiful," Maria assured her, but there was a slight drop in her countenance. She lifted the lid to inspect its emptiness, then closed it quickly. She looked at her husband and smiled. "Thank you, darling. I look forward to filling it with many memories. I really do like it."

"You don't have to wait, Mother! You can fill it now!" Brigitta practically bounced as she spoke.

"Well, I…" Maria swallowed as she pulled the box closer onto her lap. "I don't have anything to put it just yet. My memories have been mostly thoughts until now." She felt a hand brush her cheek. She cleared her throat and smiled again. "But that's fine, isn't it? I'll just…"

"No, I mean we have memories for you!"

"I don't understand."

"What Brigitta means is that there is more," Georg explained. "You told me that the things you treasure most are in your heart, do you remember?" Maria nodded, a touch of red appearing on her cheeks. "Well, one of those things was Paris, so… here. Here is a memory from Paris." He took one of her hands and turned her palm up and dropped a small item into it. The children leaned forward to see it.

"What is _that_?!" Gretl screwed her face in confusion. Maria let out a short laugh as she held it up for her youngest daughter to see.

"This… this is a champagne cork," Maria marveled. She turned her head quickly at him, her mouth still opened from surprise. "Is it…?"

"Yes," he answered, his tone quite pointed. "The very one."

"The very one what?" Gretl was still confused.

"Uh," Maria stammered. "The hotel manager gave us a lovely bottle of champagne when we first arrived and, well..." The heat in her cheeks became deeper. "You kept it?"

"Once I retrieved it from the chandelier!" he laughed, and added as he turned toward his children. "I never saw a cork fly out of a bottle so fast and far! Despite what you think, my dear wife, I can be quite a sentimental man."

"I'll never doubt it," Maria beamed, her hand that held the cork clutched to her heart. She carefully lifted the box lid and placed it inside. "Oh, thank you, Georg. I am so glad to have that."

"You also mentioned me and the children on your list of treasures, so…," he continued, nodding at Kurt. The boy stood up, his hand hiding behind his back.

"Mother," he began, trying hard to remember what he was told to say. "We will never forget the first day you came to us. It was a very important day for all of us, because… um, well. Here." A quiet moan could be heard from his sisters. He made a face before bring his hand to hers and dropping a pine cone into her hands. "It's not the same pine cone, of course, but I hope it will help you remember that day." Kurt quickly sat down dejectedly.

"You did a fine job with your speech, Kurt," Maria told him quietly, trying hard not to cry. She tossed the pine cone back and forth in her hand and smiled. "And it's perfect! Certainly better than keeping a frog in here!" She placed it in the box with the cork.

"Here. Don't forget me," Georg said, holding out a shiny bosun's whistle. Maria stared at it for a moment. "Go ahead. It isn't as if I have any more use for it. It's yours." She took it and looked at it for a while. "When you look at it, remember the tyrant sea captain that used it and know that he is so thankful you came to us that day. That day changed his life." Maria nodded.

"It changed mine as well," she managed. "Thank you, all. These are exactly the things I would have put in here." She gently placed the whistle next to the other items and began to close the lid.

"There's more," Georg told her as he stopped her with a light touch of her hand. "Don't forget that the Sisters were on your list. I contacted the Reverend Mother to help me with this part and I'd say she came through in spades." He handed her an envelope. Maria opened it slowly, a puzzled look on her face as she stared at it.

"I don't know what this is," she said quietly, looking back at him for an explanation.

"The Abbess remembered a conversation when you entered the Abbey. She asked you about your religious upbringing and you told her you couldn't remember if you had been christened."

"That's right. No one could ever tell me. I mean, I always assumed…"

"You don't have to assume anymore," Georg continued. "That woman has connections that should make Hitler nervous. She contacted all the churches and chapels in near your birthplace until she found proof. That," he said, pointing to the paper, "is a copy of the church record."

"That's… that's amazing!"

"She asked me to give this to you, as well… for your box." It was a small velvet drawstring bag. She could tell it had been a dark purple at one point, but years had faded it to brown. Maria opened and dumped the contents into her hand. The children crowded once more to see it. A delicate little rosary landed on her palm and a slip of paper toppled down into the box. She opened the note and read it so everyone could hear.

_Dearest Maria, This rosary was given to a young girl who grew up in the mountains on her confirmation day by her parents. She used it to pray for the Lord's guidance so she could find her life. She now gives it to you as a reminder of the path you took to find yours. God bless you…_

Maria sniffed as she lovingly returned the rosary to the pouch, tucking the precious note with it. She looked up to see her children watching her with concern. She wiped the tears from her chin and gave a sheepish laugh. "I'm fine, children. This has been the most wonderful Christmas. Thank you all for this gift, I love it. And I love all of you for making me feel so important."

"Do you really like it?" Georg casually caught a wayward tear with his thumb. Maria leaned her face into his hand, simply nodding her answer. "I'm glad."

Later, after the children were fast asleep, Georg told her that the box came with a very important promise; he would make sure she had a lifetime of spectacular memories… the kind she can keep in a box and the kind she can't.

Maria suggested they start right away with the latter.

THE END


End file.
